


A Paradox

by TheMadSlasher



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Atypical Daddy Kink, Atypical Dynamic, Bros with Benefits, Character Study, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, High School Issues, Info Dump Via Beast Cameo, Kink Analysis, Kink Discovery, M/M, Psychology, References to Deconstructed Dom!Logan, Reverse Daddy Kink, Surrogate Familial Dynamics, Versatile!Logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadSlasher/pseuds/TheMadSlasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected instance of kink discovery confuses Bobby Drake and Logan. But sometimes, paradoxes have their own internal logic which makes a surprising amount of sense...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> First, this fic is a sequel to my fic "Cryogenic Savagery" which can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/758000
> 
> Please view the X-Men Animated Series episode "Cold Comfort" (link can be found in the notes for Cryogenic) and read "Cryogenic Savagery" before reading this fiction. A high level of familiarity with XTAS in general is also recommended.

**A Paradox**  
 **Part 1**  
Robert Drake sat on the couch in his living room and reached for the remote control. His pinstripe jacket was cast across a nearby armchair and his tie hung loosely from his neck. The top button of his shirt lay undone. The hand which wasn't gripping the remote control reached into an open bag of M &M's. As he shoveled the multicolored candy into his mouth he turned on the television.

The screen lit up - the female news anchor spoke as various stock and commodity price fluctuations moved across the bottom of the panel.  
"In other news, a conflict between two groups of mutants occurred just outside the town of Schenectady three hours ago. No bystanders were injured but footage obtained from the incident shows a series of well-recognized mutants with known paramilitary capabilities."

Bobby watched as he saw the familiar faces on the screen - from Scott ( _boy scout_ ) to Jean ( _still hot after all these years_ ), to Hank (he smiled) and then the infuriatingly smug, suave smirk of Gambit ( _showoff_ ). Finally, another face turned towards the camera; a wild mane of jet black hair rested atop the head of a short but very thickly-muscled man with a fair complexion. A snarling, tooth-baring scowl lay smeared across the man's face. The camera lingered for a second before quickly turning away.

 _Why couldn't they have gotten some real publicity back in my day?_ he thought to himself unseriously as he reached for his cellphone and called the man he had just seen. He quickly swallowed the remaining chocolate in his mouth and then raised the device to his ear.

"Popsicle," Logan's voice came through the receiver; an undertone of fondness lay beneath the gravel. "How's things?"

"Heya Logan," Bobby replied with a smile on his face. "Just wanted to tell you that you and the gang have all been caught on TV again."

"Shit," the feral responded tersely. "Thanks fer the heads up, Drake."

"No problem," Bobby shot back before making a smirk. "On the bright side, you don't look _that_ much older than you did last time," he snarked. 

"Hey!" The feral quickly snapped back. "I don't even have a clue what my real age is."

Bobby continued with a mixture of affection and taunting in his voice. "I'd have picked early forties, old man."

"'Old man?,'" came a mildly sulky growl. "Lay off it, Drake. I'm yer friend, not yer father."

Bobby paused for a second at Logan's words; he felt a strange warmth percolate in his stomach at them. The cryokinetic took a breath before be continued, "anyway, just thought you guys should get the head's up. Say hi to Hank for me."

"Anytime, Bobby," Logan replied. "Thanks fer tellin' us."

"Bye, buddy," Bobby said, smiling again, before hanging up.

The accountant stretched back and yawned before reaching for the remote another time and turning the television off. He stood up and slowly unwound his cerulean tie as he paced about the chrome-glass-and-white hyper-modern surrounds of his apartment; his steps felt heavy. He cast his gaze towards the floor-to-ceiling windows; one of Manhattan's avenues lay stretched out before him, resembling a river of drifting stars beneath the night sky. _I'm hitting the sack_ he thought to himself.

A few minutes later, the mutant lied back on his bed and sprawled the limbs of his naked body out.  
 _"I'm yer friend, not yer father..."_ The phrase lingered in his mind like the warm feeling from before lingered in his stomach. _well he certainly isn't my father. My father was a demanding mutant-phobic asshole that let Xavier adopt me after Rocky ended up in cryo. Then my adoptive father was a control-freak self-righteous douche that couldn't admit he was wrong before Kirby Glen..._

He remembered that evening right after Kirby Glen; he recalled the feral gripping his manhood tightly while growling in his ear...  
 _"Fuck... that thing ya said ta Cyke... say it again..."_  
"I chose to think for myself... instead of always playing the good soldier boy!"  
"Fuck yeah Bobby... hottest thing I heard in ages.."

Robert felt his shaft begin to harden and his pulse speed up as he relived that evening... his length buried inside Logan and the Canadian pushing back into each thrust... the elder man's thick arms around his body as he sank downward, steadily taking Wolverine's cock deeper and deeper within him... his own palm wrapped itself tightly around his hardness and stroked back and forth. 

He imagined the sensation of Logan's hairy, stocky form pressing down on him; the elder man's stout shaft pressing against his own as Logan's grip surrounded both cocks. He grit his teeth as he felt the familiar ache deep within in his groin. He remembered Logan's hot breath stroking against his ear as the feral rasped constant filth... yet this time it wasn't what he heard back in the hotel room.  
 _"That's it Bobby, feel Daddy's cock grinding against yours? Yeah, you like it don'tcha Son?"_

Bobby kept stroking his manhood as a slight glaze of cool sweat emerged onto his skin. The feel of the sheets didn't even register to him as his mind continued to conjure the fantasy.  
 _"C'mon Son, let Daddy getcha off... I can feel how hard ya are, how much ya want it..."_

It wasn't long before Bobby came with a shuddering series of gasps that crystallized in the air. The afterglow, however, was quickly eaten away by a heavy feeling of guilt; the return of his rational thought processes eroded any satisfaction.  
 _Fuck. That was wrong..._ He shook his head... _Logan? Daddy? The guy's the opposite of my Dad or Chuck. Like he said, he's my friend, not my father..._

He reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand and began to clean up the evidence; it was proof of more than a jerkoff. The confusion in his mind seemed to bleed into a deep feeling of disgust in his stomach. _No way in hell am I gonna be like that ass-kissing boy-scout Summers... he'd do anything for Chuck's approval. And Dad never got me to shut up and stop asking questions..._

_So why was that so hot? What the hell is wrong with me?_

**Part 2**  
With each piece of gear he placed on his body, he began to look stronger and feel weaker. 

_The animal wants ta be fed_ he thought grimly as it roared and snarled in his mind. He picked up the pair of handcuffs and slid them into the back left pocket of his jeans; later tonight those cuffs would be around someone else's wrists, just as the animal served as the cuffs around his own.

 _They wanted a weapon. The perfect soldier. The perfect killer. One that didn't think, didn't question, just obeyed. So they couldn't have a man - they needed an animal..._ He slid the leather jacket around his broad shoulders as the thick guilt sloshed around inside his stomach with the sludginess of wet cement. He couldn't bargain with the thing inside his head, he couldn't repress it or reason with it, all he could do was give in.

He walked down the alley towards the bar's entrance. Each step he made with his booted feet echoed off the brick-and-cement walls; the animal salivated but Logan felt like he was marching to his own execution. The neon lights of the bar's sign read "Masters Den" and cast a scarlet glow across the concrete that made the alleyway look stained in blood. _I go in here and they call me Master... but I'm just a slave ta tha animal. Ta Weapon X._ The bitter scowl on his face only grew darker and more intense as the machine-gun beat from inside the club grew louder.

The bouncer stepped aside and he slid his cover payment to the door clerk. The inner doors opened and revealed a familiar space; dark walls, red leather couches, and small areas set up with extensive BDSM equipment. A curtain obscured a narrow corridor leading to private play-spaces. The intermingling scents of leather, sweat, smoke and liquor crawled up his nostrils; he felt his pulse quicken alongside the deepening of his self-loathing. He approached the bar and ordered a triple bourbon on the rocks before stalking towards a vacant table in the far corner.

It was only forty-five minutes before he noticed he was being looked at by a thin young man making hesitant glances. The youth's attire made everything clear to Logan; _sub. Fresh meat._ He left his seat and began walking over to the submissive.  
"Hey kiddo," he snarled darkly as he neared the slender figure, "the name's Master L. Whatcha lookin for?"

The young man looked towards Logan but kept his eyes away from making contact. 

_Can't even look me in the eye_ the mutant thought to himself contemptuously. 

"To submit, Sir," the younger man replied in a shaky voice. "To not have to make choices... to not have to think."

 _Thinkin'... choices... that's what separates us from tha animals_ , Logan thought to himself as he started feeling pity towards the younger man. Pity usually made him nauseous but the ache of his hardon kept that at bay. 

"Can you help me, Sir?" He said, finally meeting Logan's gaze with a pair of wide, pleading eyes.

If it weren't for his erection, he'd have raced to the bathroom and emptied his stomach. _I know what its like ta be an animal, and this... thing.. wants that_. But the animal forced his hand to reach behind, take the leash off his belt, and offer the clip end towards the sub. _Tha animal... its just a scavenger lookin' fer carrion..._

\---

The Canadian awoke with a gasp as he popped his claws reflexively; the familiar sting between the knuckles brought his thoughts away from panic. He retracted the blades at a controlled pace as he steadied his breaths. He tossed the sweat-dampened sheets away as he sat up and placed the soles of his feet on the carpet. 

He made a slow inhale and exhale before standing up and started pacing towards the bathroom. When the cool tiles rested beneath his feet he reached towards the light switch and flicked it on. He moved forward and looked at his eyes in the mirror - angry red veins were crawling over the sclerae. His fingers wrapped around the faucet and turned.

Wolverine splashed cold water over his face before he took another breath. _Its over now, Canucklehead. Yer not like that any more... ya got control over yer own life again. Ya got nothin' ta compensate for..._

Nothing he told himself mitigated the disgust he felt.

 **Part 3**  
 _I've always liked having my physical media_ Bobby thought to himself with a small smirk as he opened the conspicuously inconspicuous brown paper package that had arrived in the mail. After tearing away the paper, he saw what he was expecting; the DVD case. The new plastic gleamed in the light, although the sheen was broken up by the several stickers placed on the cover.

A tall, muscular, shirtless, around-the-early-40's-looking man with a generously hairy chest was plastered on the front; the title "Daddy's Day Off" was printed in block letters over the model's groin. He remembered the previews he had seen online; _only some brief montages with bad music and none of the movie's audio_ he thought as he opened the case for the first time. _But hey, might as well check out this sick little fetish_.

He carried the disc across the floor of his living room. The daylight from outside was muted by the shades. He slid the DVD into the player before he walked back to the couch, sat down, and picked up the remote control. He turned the volume down before he pressed play. His finger sat on the button tentatively before he pushed it down.  
 _Fuck, the 'Daddy' is a hunk_ he thought to himself as he began to watch the image on the screen. His fingers quickly undid his belt and unzipped his trousers. He felt the familiar tingling across his skin as endorphins began to seep into his bloodstream and his pulse began to quicken.

Then a younger man walked on screen and began sucking 'Daddy' off. Bobby pulled his semi-erect shaft from his briefs and began stroking it. His fist moved back and forth as he watched and imagined the Daddy's cock down his throat...

Suddenly, his hand ceased moving. The low rumbles of pleasure coming from the screen had now been replaced with a harsh rasp of anger; Daddy's fingers gripped at the younger man's hair and held the youth still.  
"What was I saying, you little brat?" the elder man spat. "Don't fuckin' move while I fuck your throat, _boy_."

Bobby felt like he had just been punched in the gut when he heard that. His breath began to crystallize in the air.

"You don't make the rules here, _I'm_ the man," Daddy continued as he began to piston his hips back and forth, shoving his cock down the younger man's gullet. 

Bobby grit his teeth in anger even as an intense unease began to roll around in his stomach. His erection had began to subside.

"You fuck up again and I'll turn you over my knee and put you in your fucking place, punk."

Indignant rage raced through his mind as he snatched the remote control off the table and smashed his finger down on the eject button. His breaths became harsh and ragged as he remembered how he felt one night at Xaviers. _Waiting outside the Prof's office for yet another verbal flaying..._

\---

"He's a boy," Charles said as disdain and frustration ate through his tone like an acid. "Willful, stubborn and immature."

"He's a hotheaded punk, Professor," Scott replied in a level, steely and cold voice. "I'll put him in his place."

"No, Scott. That's something I'll have to do," the telepath responded. He exhaled with a groan of exasperation.  
"He almost makes me wish that the British approach still had favor on this side of the Atlantic."

None of them knew that Bobby had his ear pressed against the closed door. 

\---

Bobby's knuckles were white as his fingers clenched the remote control. Clouds of frosty breaths surrounded his face. He shook his head as his grip slackened. He stood up, yanked the DVD out of the player's slot, roughly jammed it back inside the plastic case and almost slammed the cover shut. He swiftly walked towards his kitchen and then tossed the case into the trashcan from several steps away. 

The case landed, cover upwards, atop the pile that formed the receptacle's current contents. The lid, disturbed by the case's impact, fell down. The corner of the case stuck out the side.

 _Never trust a preview, never trust a preview, never trust a goddamn preview_ he thought to himself on a repeating loop as his breaths began to slow themselves and the frost began to dissipate. He placed his hands down on the kitchen table and rested his weight on them.

Only then did he realize his belt was still undone and his cock and balls were still sticking out the top of his underwear. _Crap_ , he thought as he tucked his shaft away and fastened his pinstriped trousers.  
 _What the hell was that?_ he thought to himself as he recalled the video. A thick sludge of disgust seemed to surge up within him as he remembered what 'Daddy' said.

Then he recalled when he jerked off days earlier with that fantasy of Logan being 'Daddy.' _That hardon wasn't a dream..._

_So what. the fuck. is wrong with me?_

 

 **Part 4**  
The Canadian walked down the familiar Manhattan avenue with a book in his left hand and a can of cola in his right. A list of items sat in the pocket of his jeans; _first stop is Bobby's though_ he thought as his footsteps brought him closer to the entryway of a glass building. 

A few moments later, he knocked on the Cryokinetic's door; the door opened widely - the accountant stood before him in a blue towelling robe and grinned broadly.

"C'mon in, man," Bobby said cheerfully as he waved Logan inside.

"Thanks," the Canadian responded before he took a sip of his cola and strode into the apartment. _All glass and metal and hard angles in here... no accountin' fer taste_ he thought as he placed the book on the near-black benchtops of the kitchen. "Thanks for lettin' me borrow this too," he said.

"Anytime, buddy," the younger mutant responded as he clasped the feral's shoulder. 

Suddenly, the electric bloops and blips of Bobby's ringtone sliced through the air. He moved across the room and picked up the cellphone; he pouted when he looked at the screen and saw the number.  
"Damn, its a client. I gotta take this in the other room," Bobby said as he began moving down the hall. "Be right back!"

"No problem," Logan said towards the taller man's back. 

He tilted his head back again as he depleted the can's contents. Then he paced towards the trashcan and lifted the lid.

He just stood there silently for a few seconds at the sight of the DVD case. _What the hell?_

His eyesight could catch only a few stray fingerprints against the gleam of the plastic. The chemical scent of new polymer crept into his nostrils. Barely any flecks of dust could be spotted on the jacket. Several stickers were still affixed to the cover. However, it was the picture of the muscular, tall, hairy, forty-something man that drew his gaze first, before his glance drifted down towards the title.

The Canadian cocked an eyebrow in confusion before he tossed his can atop the pile of trash and closed the lid gingerly. He leaned back against the nearest benchtop; his inner monologue frantically alternated between white-noise chaos and deafening silence. He steadied his breaths almost on reflex as he stared blankly towards the windows.

Bobby's head emerged from around the corner of the hallway. "Sorry about this but this call's gonna take longer than I expected," he said sheepishly. "Reschedule things?"

Logan just nodded. "Sure," he tersely grunted over a slightly forced smile before he nodded towards the door; "I'll let myself out."

"Thanks man... sorry about this," Bobby responded apologetically before moving back down the hallway. 

A second after he lost sight of Bobby, Logan left the younger man's apartment. He retrieved the list from his pocket and scanned it, only barely concentrating enough to register the words.

He shopped as if he were on autopilot; his mind still looked at that DVD case in Bobby's trash. _"Daddy..."_

He remembered the club he used to go to - how many of the subs that propositioned him called themselves 'boy.' _Because boys ain't men_. He remembered their watery, evasive glances as they talked about their 'need' to have a 'real man' make decisions for them. How they wanted a 'daddy.' 

He could almost taste the sourness of the pity he felt. He grit his teeth as he remembered how back then, he indulged their weakness as he gave into his own.

He remembered the cold, hard stare Bobby had directed towards Scott, towards Xavier, towards him back when they first met at the mansion. He remembered the pride and conviction in the younger mutant's voice when speaking of choosing to think independently rather than comply with authority. _Exactly the opposite of tha 'boys'_.

_So why?_

An hour later, the Canadian sat behind the wheel of his jeep. Every time he stopped or slowed down, the question seemed to reassert itself like a mountain suddenly sprouting up from the ocean floor.  
 _Hardly any fingerprints. Little dust on the jacket. Just bought new... and in his trash. He might have thrown it out. Maybe he didn't like it?_

_But why would he order it in tha first place? Don't they have previews?_

Suddenly, a single thought tore through his brain - a realization that shocked him so well it may as well have been a thunderbolt. He slammed his foot on the brake and pulled over with a jerk as he remembered the phone conversation he had with Bobby about a week ago.

_"I'd have picked early forties, old man."_

_Ya could say that about the man on tha cover..._

_Drake sees me like that?!?_

The countryside continued to drift by as the Wolverine's vehicle advanced further towards Westchester County. _No, he can't... not after how we've done it... it makes no fuckin' sense..._

As the gates of the Institute loomed large before him, he exhaled slowly. _Here's where it started. Chuck was Bobby's father figure fer years... but tha Prof's off with Lilandra now._

_Guess I'll have ta ask the best friend, then._

 

 **Part 5**  
Logan knocked on the door to Hank's lab. He entered when the smooth, eloquent baritone responded with a "please come in."

"Hank," he said with a small wave of acknowledgment. He quickly sat down in a chair near Hank's workbench.

"Logan, my friend. Was your visit to the city fruitful?" Hank asked in a tone of warm welcome.

"Ya could say that," the Canadian replied. _Yeah, it produced a lotta questions_. "Bobby says hi," he said before watching a fond smile break out across the blue mutant's face. "Speakin' of that... I gotta ask somethin'. I understand if its private info," Logan continued quietly, "but I need ta know.. All that bad blood between Chuck and Bobby... what were they like, back in tha day?"

Hank took a breath; "it is a long story, and perhaps one not written particularly sympathetically. You've only seen fragments. I am not a trained psychologist, and my own friendship with Bobby would predispose me against neutrality, so I must advise caution. However, I am happy to offer my greatest current understanding."

Logan nodded. "Spill it, blue," he replied in his gravelly tone.

Hank rested his large hands on his desk. "Bobby and Xavier share... or 'shared' perhaps is more accurate... a surrogate-father/son dynamic, with unresolved questions of dominance."

 _Unresolved? That's puttin' it mildly... and weird, usually even grown-up guys wanna please their father..._ He pondered as he nodded in a bid for Hank to continue.

"Robert's biological father is Roman Catholic, his biological mother is Jewish. He was raised in a dual-religion household, where both faiths made incompatible claims. From a young age he had some people telling him A was true, and other people telling him B was true. He always had a quick mind; the contradictions didn't escape his notice. His Hebrew and Sunday School teachers frequently dealt with him asking difficult questions."

"Ya mean like 'If God's so perfect and powerful why is this world so fucked?' That kinda thing?" _Not even Kurt could answer that question_.

Hank nodded. "And his father was, to put it mildly, disappointed at his son's inquiring, skeptical mindset... the phrase 'too smart for your own good' was quite commonly used in the Drake residence." Hank shook his head, "and his running commentary never endeared him to his Elementary school teachers and peers, either. Bobby's powers manifested in an incident where he accidentally put one of the bullies into cryopreservation. Many of the townsfolk, unfortunately, decided to respond with Torches and Pitchforks."

 _Not surprised ta hear about his father_ , Logan thought, still confused. He nodded solemnly at the mention of Torches and Pitchforks, _somethin' too many mutants know too well.._ He tried to pull his mind away from jumping to conclusions about Bobby; he simply bade the Doctor to continue.

"Robert was in police custody, ostensibly for his own protection, when his parents found out. Xavier confirmed that Robert was a mutant. After this revelation, it turned out that his parents," Hank's voice got softer and even slightly pained as he continued, "didn't want him any more."

A low, dangerous snarl welled up from Logan's lungs as he clenched his fists and jaw. At that moment he would've relished the taste of Drake's parents' blood on his teeth.

"Xavier offered to adopt Bobby. His biological parents accepted, and Bobby became Xavier's ward."

 _Disowned by his only immediate family just before goin' inta Junior High..._ "Shit, that's rough fer a kid," he said.

Hank nodded solemnly in response and folded his hands atop each other. "Indeed. And Robert, understandably, simply couldn't tolerate the thought he had been rejected by his blood family. In order to avoid having to deal with this pain, he enthusiastically adopted the early X-Men as his new family, with the Professor as his replacement father."

"So what next?" Logan asked with a rasp.

"Jean's telepathy, my intellect, and Warren's familial acquaintance with the Professor, allowed us all to interact with Charles on more egalitarian terms. But Bobby was one of two X-Men that lacked any such ability... the other one was Scott. The Professor rescued Scott from a childhood that consisted of several almost-Dickensian orphanages and gave Scott more food and comfort and security and affection than he'd ever known before."

 _No wonder he worshipped tha ground Xavier walked on_ , Logan thought as he contemplated the team leader... _absolute loyalty is puttin' it lightly_. "So Scott and Bobby were like Chuck's twin sons?"

Hank nodded and began to speak again, with darkness rolling into his tone like ominous stormclouds; "and you've already guessed who the favored son was. Xavier, for all his virtues and noble intentions, was raised with unenlightened values, an old-fashioned education, and like many highly intelligent visionaries, a significant difficulty entertaining the possibility of his own fallibility."

 _Can't say I'm surprised_ , Logan thought as he remembered the time when Xavier's dark side, everything within the Professor that Charles tried to keep repressed, had him trapped on the tracks of the subway. _Chuck's Shadow... attackin' me fer bein' undisciplined, rebellious, that kinda thing. Demandin' obedience. Bet he didn't repress that back in Bobby's day..._ "Meet tha New Dad... even worse than the Old Dad, right?"

Hank nodded slowly before shaking his head and glancing downward. "I truly weep for Robert over this..." he raised his eyes back to the Canadian's, "Xavier didn't have much patience for Robert's wit, questioning or defiance. Charles dismissively thought that Bobby was simply being immature. And this tore Robert's wounds over being disowned right open. He received a new family, with a father even more disapproving than his old one. It was only a matter of time before Robert, unsurprisingly, lashed out."

"So what part did Scooter play in all this?"

"Put yourself in Scott's situation. If you were a child adopted from a long string of cold, hungry orphanages by a man that comparatively lavished you with care and spoke of a world where your differences would be accepted and you'd be treated as fully human rather than a defect of nature, how would you feel seeing a middle-class only-child rebel against that man? Challenge him? Question him? How do you think Scott saw Robert?"

"As an ungrateful brat that needed ta be put in his place," Logan responded begrudgingly, acknowledging why Scott would come to such a conclusion even if every cell in his body wanted to scream his dissent.

"And Scott dutifully took his place as Xavier's enforcer. Summers was even more domineering back then than he is today, and cracked down on Bobby with particular harshness. For Scott's compliance, Xavier rewarded him with praise and affection and status... Bobby couldn't help but see Scott's position as field leader as a manifestation of favoritism rather than one based on Scott's skills."

The thought that Bobby secretly sought approval from authority figures sat awkwardly in his mind, swimming against the tide of evidence. The image of that DVD case in the trashcan stuck out at a bizarre angle from the images of the man who looked Scott unflinchingly in the face, vocally challenged Xavier, and enlisted Jubilee's help in breaking out of confinement. _Don't rush ta judgment_ , he thought as he tried to piece things together, _ya need more info... please, fuck Bobby, don't be like those weakling spineless grovelers... yer better than that..._ "Keep goin', Doc."

"Robert's surrogate-sibling-rivalry with Scott crystallized his understanding of the conflict. He could either retain his independent spirit, or he could be like Scott Summers and gain the Professor's approval. To use a metaphor from his current profession, the cost-benefit analysis clearly favored rejecting the Professor's approval, and staying how he was."

"Choosin' ta think fer himself," _like a human being_ , "instead o'playin' tha good soldier boy," _or an animal, tamed with enough cages and leashes_. Logan spoke in a smooth rumble as he folded his arms beneath his chest.

"Indeed. I believe the moment at which the issue became clear to him was when he stepped up his pranking, defiance and non-conformity. This is the part you're familiar with. He aced every mathematics exam, barely did homework, refused to attend detentions, rarely trained, played tricks on Cyclops, and it quickly developed into all-out war against every kind of authority in existence... their faces and names and ages and rationales may have differed, but Bobby saw them all as fundamentally sharing the same aim; disarming his mind and thus taming his spirit."

Logan resisted the urge to have a proud chuckle at the thought of Bobby's hell-raising. He remained silent and let Hank's words settle into his still-confused psyche. "So where does Polaris fit in?"

"Lorna's near-death was only the flashpoint - indeed, Lorna was one of the few things preventing Robert from leaving earlier. However, the incident pushed Bobby's hostility to new heights... If I remember correctly, he asked Xavier 'If you know everything, why didn't your orders keep my girlfriend safe?'"

Logan let out a harsh bark of laughter which he quickly stifled. _Not funny, Canucklehead_. He then stood up and nodded, "thanks, Hank. I appreciate it."

"My pleasure," the Beast said as he smiled slightly. He watched as Logan turned around and began to walk out of the lab.

"Funny, wasn't expectin' ya ta tell me this shit so easily," Logan commented as he looked back over his shoulder. "Why tha easy spill?"

"Apart from the fact you've been an extremely good friend to my closest compatriot?" Hank responded in a fond voice. "Because in that war against every kind of authority in existence, you're on his side. You made the same choice he did... you comprehend that choice, and thus Robert, inestimably greater than most."

Logan smiled and chuckled slightly as he replied, "yeah, the rebel-ness... that's what we both got." _Still not sure about comprehendin' Bobby yet though_ he thought as the dilemma of the DVD case reasserted itself. "See ya, McCoy," he said before leaving the laboratory.

After the door closed behind Logan, Hank turned back to the bench on the rear wall. His large hands returned to the experiment at hand, yet he remained in thought.  
 _Not just your shared taste for anti-authoritarianism_ , he mused. _Perhaps I should have told you how he also had a crush on Jean, and this only exacerbated his resentment of Scott's leadership... you two are surprisingly alike even if none would think so prima facie._

Later, when the wildman lay back in his bed, he still tried to piece things together. _That DVD, stickers still on, hardly any prints, still new and thrown out. There's no way Bobby would be one o'those spineless types... is there? Maybe he just watched it once and didn't like it? But these things come with previews... shouldn't he have known what he was gettin'?_

 _Looks like there's only one man that knows tha full truth_.

 

 **Part 6**  
When he heard the feral's voice make that inquiry in a familiar subterranean rumble, the accountant felt a stab of cold through his body that reminded him of the pneumonia he endured when he was eight.

"I saw that DVD ya bought," the Canadian rasped. "Is there somethin' ya wanna tell me, kiddo?" His expression was more curious and confused than it was accusatory, yet Bobby's eyes instantly began to resemble those of a deer in the headlights.

 _Ohjesusfuckno..._ Bobby thought as his eyes darted around his own kitchen, reflexively looking for a way out. His exhales frosted over as his cheeks began to redden in shame. "I didn't..." he began uneasily. "I didn't really watch it. It was awful. I threw it out just after I got it please Logan just... please forget about it okay?" He began in a frantic staccato but ended in almost a plea.

The reek of anxiety, of humiliation, of pure terror cut through the air. _So he did throw it out just after... didn't like it.. but why did he get it in tha first place?_ "So what is it Bobby? Do ya want me ta be yer Daddy?" he asked in a puzzlement-laced tone; he immediately picked up the slight spike in Bobby's scent. 

"But I'm yer friend, not yer father..." Logan said again in a softer-than-usual voice.

"THAT'S WHY!" Bobby instantly blurted without thought or pause. Immediately his eyes went wider and his own look of fear was infused with bewilderment.  
"I... I don't know why I said that but... but..." he fumbled as he backed further away from Logan, clamped his eyes shut and pressed himself back against the benchtops. _I'm dead... he thinks I'm sick. All that hot sex from Kirby Glen onwards is gonna mean nothing now and he'll just think I'm some pathetic kid or something..._

Several seconds of silence and darkness later, the cryokinetic opened his eyes. He expected to see pity on the elder man's face, but instead he bore witness to a look of almost wonder. _What the?_

What once were tangled webs of questions mired in conflicting evidence now suddenly made sense to the wildman. "That's it, isn't it?" Logan began quietly but certainly. The confusion had been banished from his features and replaced with an easy, accepting smile. _It's not a contradiction at all... it just looks like one_. "All yer life," Logan began, "'Daddy' always treated ya like a subordinate.. like an inferior... tried ta make ya fall inta line and be a good soldier boy.. ta give up thinkin' fer yerself..."

Bobby nodded slowly as he listened. _I have no idea where he's going with this.._

"But you just wanted tha opposite, didn't ya?" Logan asked as his smile grew fond. "Ya didn't wanna be his good little boy, ya wanted ta be his fellow man. That's it, ain't it?"

Immediately, the hurricane-like confusion began to dissipate. All the guilt and shame and embarrassment he felt over the past days began to leave him. The familiar look of frozen determination began to reassert itself on his face and he started to straighten up his stance. The frost vanished from his exhales as Logan gave words to everything he had craved for decades.

"No wonder ya hated that film, Drake," Logan began. "Most o'that stuff's all the same... some self-hatin' puke willin' ta cut his own balls off ta get Daddy's approval. That film wasn't made fer a man like you, popsicle." As he spoke, the feral's smile grew hungry and voice grew rougher; his pulse quickened and he began inching slowly towards the younger mutant. _But I know somethin' that's abso-fuckin'-lutely up yer alley... and mine too..._

"Just because I'm yer friend, not yer father, that doesn't stop me from bein' yer Daddy, huh Son?"

Bobby gulped as he felt the familiar sensation of the air sliding across his skin and the anticipation churning in his stomach. He remained still and kept his gaze on Logan, even though his face felt feverish.

"My cocky, smart Son," the Canadian continued as he drew even closer to Bobby; the young man's scent grew heavier with lust as he spoke. "Yer just as much of a rebel as me... a real chip off tha old block," he snarled with a warm rumble of affection lying beneath his voice. "Ya never let anyone cage ya, leash ya, tell ya what ta do, or treat ya as anythin' less than tha man ya are." He felt his jeans grow tighter as he finally lay his palms on the younger man's upper biceps; "and that makes me so fuckin' hot fer ya, Drake."

Bobby's manhood began to strain against his underwear as he felt the grip of the shorter man's hands. _I'm dreaming... this... this can't be happening its too awesome is this for real I..._ "Logan..." he almost gasped, not being able to force any more coherent words out of his mouth even as Wolverine drew ever closer. He didn't move a muscle as he felt the dark-haired mutant's body heat against his skin and the hot breath against his ear.

"So how about I take ya ta bed, Son?" Logan intoned as he smirked ravenously. _Yeah, nothin' like those spineless grovelers... none of 'em would answer 'yes' ta this_ ; "Ya wanna fuck yer Daddy in the ass?"

 **Part 7**  
The door of Bobby's bedroom burst inwards as the two men scrambled inside; their arms were wrapped around each other as their mouths duelled frantically. Sharp canine teeth grazed the accountant's lower lip; warm tongues collided while enveloped in frosty breath.

Drake's coat and tie were quickly cast on the floor as his hands wandered up the back of Logan's shirt and moved across the granite-hard planes of warm muscle that constructed the feral's back. He felt Logan's fingertips drifting across the ridges and valleys of his abs as he withdrew from the feral's maw and gasped for air.  
"Daddy..." Bobby almost whispered; the word still felt awkward even though he felt his heart thunder at using it.

Logan smiled as he kept his gaze fixed on the younger man, but he could hear the slight discomfort in the syllables. "Ya can always call me Daddy Logan instead, kiddo," he rasped through his hungry smirk. "Think a title... like I said, I'm not yer father." As he spoke, his hands departed the taller mutant's body and he began to take his leather jacket off; the garment landed on the carpet with a soft, crumpling thud.

Drake's lips began to curve into a playful grin as his palms rested on the elder man's broad shoulders. The machine-gun-staccato of his pulse seemed to blur into a constant hum as he began to pull at the tight black cloth of Logan's t-shirt.  
"So, you want me to fuck you old man?" he asked excitedly as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of the shorter mutant's garment and moved up through the rugged, forested terrain concealed from his sight. 

"Like ya wouldn't believe, kiddo," Logan responded through a ravenous leer as he began to undo Bobby's buttons; the cryokinetic's cool palm felt soothing against his heated skin. As Bobby's somewhat stocky musculature came into view, he licked his lips before he began pulling his tee over his head.

The accountant felt the ache of his hardon grow as the familiar yet still incredible sight of Logan's bare torso was revealed to him.  
"Alright pops..." he said quietly yet with his huge smile still in place, "on your back. I wanna see how Daddy Logan looks with his Son's cock balls-deep inside him."

Logan chuckled and nodded. "Ya know I fuckin' love it when ya talk dirty, Son," he growled as he quickly pulled his jeans down; his thick cock immediately sprung forth, unrestrained by any underwear. He stepped out of his motorcycle boots and then lay back on the Iceman's firm mattress.  
"That's right Drake, Daddy's got yer present right here. Want it?" His sharp canine teeth flashed through his knowing smirk.

Bobby snickered as he pulled his own trousers down and scrambled up on the bed. His hands sat astride Logan's broad torso and his knees rested between the Canadian's rock-solid thighs. For a moment he let his gaze move downwards and appreciate the sight of the feral's rippling muscles coated in jet black hair.  
"Hell yeah, Dad..." he said as he felt Logan's radiating body heat against his skin, "so goddamn much." _This is so weird and so hot and so right and wrong and fuck it because I'm so hard right now..._ His right arm darted towards the nightstand and quickly jerked open a drawer; he fumbled around for a second before his palm wrapped itself around a familiar tube. Immediately his grin grew more eager and playful.

Logan licked his lips as he caught sight of the tube of lube in Drake's hand. His stout erection strained towards the ceiling as he watched the accountant open the tube and squeeze a generous quantity of slippery gel onto the digits that would soon be buried inside him.  
"Yeah, get me nice and ready Son... prep me good then stuff Daddy's ass with cock."

"My pleasure old man," Bobby said in a flippantly cocky tone as he focused on coating his index, middle and ring fingers evenly. The naughty look on his face only grew as he quickly placed the cap back on the tube; the feral's legs spread invitingly and the younger man's two fingers moved into the cleft of Wolverine's ass. 

A rumbling purr escaped from between Logan's teeth as his eyes rolled back into his head; the fingers moved slowly into him, stretching him carefully. The ridges of the accountant's knuckles slid across the Canadian's prostate and sent jolts of pleasure through his stocky bulk. His hands seized Drake's shoulders as he felt the younger man's touch pushing ever deeper into his body.

Bobby's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the elder man's body squirm and entrance clench around his fingers. A slight ache began to smolder in the root of his shaft as his third digit began to move towards Logan's opening.  
"Ready for more, pops?" He asked teasingly, already knowing what response he'd receive.

"Shit yeah, kiddo," Logan snarled back through a challenging smirk. A few seconds later he felt the stretch between his glutes intensify as a third finger began to writhe its way within him; he furrowed his brow as he felt his resistance drop.  
"Fuck yeah....." the elder man groaned as he felt the accountant carefully stretch the muscle; a drop of preseed beaded at the crown of his cock and slid downward. His intakes of breath were already ragged as his focus wandered over the younger man's sturdy body.  
"C'mon ya rebellious hunk... Daddy's ready fer it. Fuck me Son."

The cryokinetic made a beaming smile as he withdrew his fingers from Logan and instantly rubbed his slick palm over his rigid manhood. The tension in his groin only escalated as he watched the elder man's thighs part.  
"Always so eager for it, huh Dad?" He asked as he chuckled softly. His hips drifted forward and the tip of his hardon settled just between the wildman's rock-hard butt-cheeks. 

"Yep," the elder man responded through a ravenous leer, "bring it, Bobby."  
As Drake drifted forward, the maddening sensation of the accountant's cockhead nestled against his entrance was replaced with the familiar pressure and heat and stretch moving up within him. His brow furrowed and jaw clenched as his back arched off the sheets; the crush of the Cryokinetic's shaft against his prostate squeezed droplets of precum out the end of his rigid length. His grip on the taller mutant's shoulders grew white knuckled as the surge of pleasure raced up his spine and smashed through his mind.

As inch after inch of his cock sank into the Canadian, Bobby felt Logan's body constrict around practically every single contour of his manhood. He barely registered any sensation apart from his shaft being engulfed by the heat and tightness. The fire in his loins only kept intensifying and was further stoked when he reached full ensheathment; the elder man let out a deep and sated growl that raced from his ear to his brain and through the rest of his skin like an electric current.  
"Shit you feel so damn good around my dick Wolvie," Drake whispered in response as his right hand's fingertips combed through Logan's chest hair.

The fullness inside him felt like it reached deep into his abdomen; the Canadian's eyes rolled back as he took a long, slow breath.  
"Fuck yeahhhhhhh...." he groaned as he felt Bobby's touches leave soothingly cool trails on the skin of his chest. He pulled the younger man downwards and purred at the refreshing sensation of the smooth, hard planes of Drake's pecs against his own.  
"C'mon Son," he rasped, "feels so fuckin' nice every fuckin' time... Pound yer Dad's ass.. ya earned it a long time ago."

Bobby's smirk grew as he slowly withdrew his cock several inches; the elder man's rumbling seemed to get louder as he moved backward. The accountant then took a breath before smoothly plunging back inward and burying his shaft to the hilt another time. He repeated the motions, hissing through clenched teeth with each steady thrust into the hot constriction of Wolverine's body. His muscles rippled beneath his skin; the stress built on each withdrawal before being released with the firm push back inside.  
"Fuck yeah... that's right old man, you got any idea how brain-meltingly sexy you look right now?" 

Torn growls and fragmented syllables erupted from his lungs with each impact of the younger man's body against his own; every stroke of Drake's manhood seemed to send a shockwave coursing through his flesh and crashing through his consciousness.  
"More!" he grunted as his grip drew the younger man inward; the surge of pleasure peaked as the hairy Canadian clamped his eyes shut. Every ligament and muscle that reinforced his frame seemed to strain harder with each passing second. The familiar ache in his balls only grew as the younger man's hardon kept moving back and forth.  
"Fuck me Bobby, fuck Daddy Logan just like that!" he almost yelled. 

The relentless grind of his torso against the rough and hairy bulk of the feral, the repeated engulfment of his shaft within the shorter mutant's ass, the insistent press of Logan's cock against his abs, all of these sensations simply set his nerves alight. His erection throbbed almost painfully as he continued to move; the frost in his breath seemed to grow more dense with each moment.  
"Nearly... there.." Drake grunted as he took in the sight of Logan writhing and thrashing on the end of his hardon. _Fuckthisissoincrediblyhot_ he frantically thought as his fingertips dug into the elder man's wide shoulders.  
"Gonna cum, Daddy.." he panted before his resistance gave way and pulsating shocks began to ravage his senses.

Bobby's steel-hard cock spasming inside his hole and unloading within his body finally dragged him over the edge; the pulling deep within his loins and the stretch between his cheeks seemed to merge into one intense pressure that couldn't be contained any longer. A triumphant roar was unleashed from Wolverine's throat as burst after burst of pleasure raced through his synapses, each one propelling a shot of seed from his stout manhood. 

Logan lost track of time as the rush began to recede; his gaze languidly wandered across the ceiling before his focus returned to the handsome visage of the younger mutant. His ragged gasps began to slow as the Iceman's features came into focus. He released Bobby's shoulders from his grasp.

The cryokinetic supported himself by his elbows; his heaving chest descended towards Logan's with each inhale he made. His face seemed caught between disbelief and exhaustion.  
"Holy fuck that was awesome..." he whispered between frantic draws of breath as a solitary droplet of cool sweat fell from chin and landed on the elder man's body. 

Logan reached up towards the accountant; his fingertips moved along Drake's cheek. A smile crossed his lips.  
"Yeah, it was... Ya still think its wrong?" he asked with a snarky rasp.

Bobby simply grinned; "if that's wrong, I don't wanna be right."

A mixture of a groan and a reluctant chuckle welled up from the feral's lungs in response before he rolled out from underneath the younger man. He shook his head at the line as he grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and started to clean the mess off his torso. He caught a glance at the clock and made a grunt.  
"Wish I could stay fer round two... I gotta get back."

"Aww crap," Bobby replied as he lay back on his mattress, but his smile returned as he continued; "don't worry Daddy Logan, I'll remember its your turn on top next."

"And yers after that," the elder man responded through a wolfish smirk as he stood up and began pulling his clothes back on. _And we wouldn't have it any other way_. As he pulled his t-shirt over his wild black mane he spoke again;  
"ya ever wanna do this again... tha Dad-Son thing.. just lemme know, alright?"

"Sure thing," the accountant responded with ease as he rose to his feet and picked up his shirt. _Funny.. before this I had trouble even saying the words and now its both volcano-hot and no big deal at the same time... Maybe that's why its so hot in the first place_ he thought as he threaded his arms through the sleeves.

Barely a minute later, the mutants shared a hug within Bobby's doorway; Logan's hand moved up Bobby's spine and stroked through the back of his hair.  
"See ya, Drake," he rumbled affectionately through his smiling lips.

"Any time, Logan," Bobby returned as his grip around the shorter man's sturdy shoulders tightened momentarily. As he withdrew from the embrace, his right palm remained on Logan's bicep for a few seconds. 

After the younger man closed the door, Logan strode down the corridor with a warm smile on his face. _Thank fuck nothin's changed.. Actually, its gotten better_ he thought as he pressed the button to summon the elevator.

As Bobby cast his eyes out the glass walls of his apartment and watched the river of lights crawl down the avenue, he couldn't help but feel relief. _So should I purchase more weird porn flicks or not?_ he thought to himself semi-sarcastically before he walked towards his freezer and opened the door. Frost washed over his arms as he scanned the assembled rows of ice-cream containers. _Well I don't think I'll have vanilla_ he thought with a smirk on his face.

**The End**


End file.
